ORDER #006

X1 BACK BURNER BITS

x1 PIXEL PIE

♪ From the Jukebox: A Little Bit Of Soap by The Jarmels ♪

A new flyer has appeared on the bulletin board. It’s a pale pink colour, with an image of a young man taking up most of the page — smiling, unaware, a collar drawn round his neck in pen. “LOST DOG” it reads in large, bold letters above, urging strangers to call the number below if found. I wonder what that’s about…

The currents are flowing as usual; down below and through the circuits. In the bathroom, the tiles have been restless, settling and un-settling all day.

Fluorescent droplets splatter across the sinkbed like paint as the Neon Waitress flicks her fingers dry and walks out. She pulls the bathroom door open, and it holds a moment too long, as if waiting, before beginning to glide to a close. In that moment, you can hear the jukebox slip in after her, catching the room just before the door seals it off;

♫ “Now have you heard when love begins to die

It leaves someone to cry night and day?”♫

Then a soft muffle, and only the sound of plates and gulls in the distance.

Out front, the jukebox’s still playing; the vinyl spinning, steady, and uninterrupted — but it gives off no sound.

Meanwhile, back in the bathroom, the song plays on, a ghostly lullaby;

♫ “Mmm, a little bit of soap

Will take away your perfume eventually

But a little bit of soap

Will never wash away the memory

Of your name in the night

That I call through the lonely years

A little bit of soap

Will never wash away my tears…” ♫

The tiles settle.

It stays that way for a while, until one begins to drag again — that coarse sound of ceramic grinding against itself, low on the wall. A vivid glow seeps out from behind it, where images in flux flicker.

*Edit of a still from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (1939) / Artist (?)*

*Clip from ‘The Idolmaster: Cinderella Girls’*

*Clip from Sean Paul’s ‘I’m Still In Love With You’ MV (2009)*

*Edit of a still from ‘The Abominable Dr. Phibes’ (1971) / Artist (?)*

*From the ‘Odyssey’ Series by Ruslan Khasanov*

There’s a magical quality about the form of a GIF, akin to that of silent cinema. Whether it’s a sped-up visual of flower petals erupting, archive footage, or an animation — something about being rendered in bitmap, scaled down, stripped silent, and either looped or ping-ponged gives it a distinct charm. Like silent film, the meaning isn’t carried through sound, but through visual articulation: texture, rhythm, and timing. It’s a moment stretched just enough to be read, and reread. Sometimes, it’s even embellished; dusted with glitter, overlaid with shimmer, edited and reworked until it feels less like a captured moment and more like something staged anew.

Often clipped from films, shows, interviews, etc., GIFs are pulled from their original context and reassigned new meaning; sometimes through added captions (movie quotes, song lyrics), or through repetition alone. In turn, they become inside jokes, shared visual shorthand, or something used purely for their aesthetic alone.

The door swings open. The sound disappears like a candle flame pinched between fingers.

Footsteps.

Crouching down, Mopy reaches over and slides the tile back into place. Thump! The glow ceases.

The tiles won’t move for the rest of the day.

The sink runs.

Out front, the song plays out like it never skipped a beat.

♫ “Mmm, it's gonna never, never, never

Uh-huh, wash away my tears”♫

— END OF ORDER —

Thank you! Come again.

Or don’t.

It’ll still be here either way.

Silent Cinema.

The Middleman.